Battle Of Gravelines Hetalia Rendition
by symphony1411
Summary: Based off historical Anglo-Spanish War, Battle Of Gravelines. With a several tweaks here and there. SpaMano. Pirate!Hetalia.


The sun out shone in a beautiful splatter of orange and red, colliding heavily with the dark blue of the wide sea. A certain brunette opens his eyes to the brightened wooden cabin, squinted a little as his emerald eyes slowly adjust to the brightness, brought in from the little port hole above him. He licked his cracked lips, swallowing his saliva to lubricate his parched throat.

"I'm thirsty, yet I am surrounded by endless stretches of water… How ironic." Chuckling painfully, he thought to himself. Someone should really invent a mechanism to make seawater drinkable…

A sudden loud roar of cheer, muffled considerably by the wooden door erupted from the gallery, piquing his interest greatly. Smoothing of his silk ruffle shirt carefully with a lazed yawn, he crossed the room to the wooden closet, navigating his way over the maps and glass bottles lying askew on the floor, some which still contains the last dregs of rum within the brown glass. Pulling open the doors hanging on brass hinges, he strips himself off as he gets out a new set of clothes, more ruffle shirts and black breeches.

"It's going to be the last stop before we sail off the coast…" It suddenly dawned on him as he pulls on his clothes, as well as boots. The leather was soft and comfortable, exactly what he had bargained for and exactly what he would have expected of his clothing. Tip-top quality, nothing else.

Stretching out his constricted muscles, he smiled slightly, pleased at the start of this day and began to list off his crew, knowing that they would probably need more than this amount to keep the ship in shape. "Well there's already quite a bit of them, but half of them are rum drinking idiots, while the others are scared out of their wits because of me. Hardly even a crew… Time to do some housekeeping then," chuckling at his own humor, it suddenly dawned on him that he missed someone… Someone too interesting.

"Oh, and there's that cheeky deckhand…"

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a loud knock issued from his door, followed by a muffled voice reporting their recent docking on the new land. He lets a smile stretch his stiff cheeks as he ties off his waist with a scarlet sass. Ruffling his chocolate brown hair and gathering it into a ponytail, tying it off with a thin green silk ribbon.

The Spaniard brushed himself off, casting a glance in the mirror and nodding as he was sure he looked presentable. He opened his door and burst out onto the slightly empty deck, the smile on his face comparable to the sunset across the horizon, despite his true feelings. He nodded at the crew, hiding a scowl of disgust.

"Dogs. Flithy, ragged dogs." He hid the incriminating thought behind his bright smile, turning around and heading back to his cabin to grab his sword and pouch of gold coins. He quickly marched back out, keeping his imposing figure as he sighed out the salty sea air, stepping onto stable land for the first time in months.

* * *

A certain deckhand scowled, unimpressed, watching the retreating figure of the captain, a powerful Spanish man who went by the name of "Sir" or "Captain Carriedo".

"It sounds so fucking _stupid_." Lovino thought bitterly, plunging the mop into a bucket of soapy water, and tried to quicken his pace in cleaning up the absolutely filthy deck, even if his arms and muscles burned with lactic acid and sunburn.

He had been doing this for who knew how long, and he wanted a chance off this blasted ship, away from the filthy men who barely even washed their hands after dinner. "Gross. As. Hell. Maybe… Even more." He shuddered, hypnotising himself that there were only a few meters left to clean.

With his new found adrenaline, he quickly finished swabbing off the vast deck, running across the slippery floor and into the water closet, dumping the bucket free of the dirty water and hanging it up to dry, cursing extensively in the darkness.

He threw the mop aside lazily, hands screaming in pain in the abundance of blisters showing. Speeding to the hammock in a large room that was shared by most of the crew, he slipped on a change of clothes, having learnt the hard way to keep an eye on his money and them on him at all times.

He changed into a faded vest, keeping the well-worn dress shirt loosely un-tucked as he puts on his black breeches, stomping on his only pair of boots as well. He tied back part of his hair with a black bandanna, running past the men who had come back for drink and slipped off deck, finally on solid, substantial, land.

He stamps his feet on the ground, slightly disbelieving the feeling and thought of finally getting on dry land, but stopped immediately once he saw people staring, and quickly runs down the road. He followed the path that branched off into smaller streets, keeping to the shadows, unaccustomed to the large, unfamiliar crowd.

He bought himself a bag of his favourite fruits, emerald red tomatoes, and continued to look around, not as intimidated as before. He snuck around, even managing to slip himself a few more coins with his pick-pocketing skills.

After a few incidences of getting caught, he quickly decides that it was time to stop for now, and finally turned back. It was still early, but he dragged himself back onto the streets, wrinkling his nose as the unbearable stench of alcohol clogs it.

Making his return onboard, he treads around the drunken sailors lying askew all over the deck. "And there goes my hard work of trying to clean all the fucking grime… Ungrateful bastards."

He headed to the back grumpily, sitting down on the small strip of deck located there and opened up his bag. He began to snack on the tomatoes, finishing the entire lot of it in no time. He lurched up, belching and swallowing a bit, the tangy taste of tomato pulp still clinging to his numb tongue. Hanging his torso over the railing, he pondered randomly but his train of thoughts was too mushy with the content feeling of having just eaten tomatoes.

He finally grew bored of looking at the rippling black water filled with scales of town lights. He pushed away from the ledge, grabbing the burlap bag and heading back out to the front deck. Peering around it, he edges carefully towards the cabin. He tried to peek towards the deck, knowing that if the captain...

He shuddered, pushing away the thought and bringing him back to his senses. He kept his posture low and drooped, his gaze towards his back. A heavy stone plummeted in his stomach as he bumped into someone and heard a soft chuckle breathe down on him. He instinctively jumped back, cringing and shuddering slightly, breaking out in a mess of cold sweat.

* * *

Keeping a low profile as he sauntered around the sea side town, a curved smirk dawned upon his lips. He continued to explore before veering into the market plaza, eager for some decent food.

The scent of salty sea air had long since been cleaned out by the heavier, mixed scent of the village. A connection of new scents rushed at him as he entered the food section of the plaza, elated to find that they sold paella and quickly bought a plate, mood drastically improved with the good food.

He sat down at one of the tables, happily chewing his meal in bliss, savouring the long lost flavour of his native food. After he had his tummy full and taste buds rid of the months long of preserved food, he finally heads back to the ship, only stopping to buy himself fresh tomatoes which he missed greatly.

He gave a few wistful, sidelong glances at the pubs he passed by, but quickly shouldered himself on as he saw a much tattered paper up on a wall, offering a reward for his head. He sped up his pace, gold earrings jingling as he trotted back to the shipyard.

His wry smile was still stretched across his face as he headed back onto the ship, seeing that the night was still young and there was probably going to be some time... and perhaps a few fights he would have to break up. He snickered at the thought, dropping his bag of fruits off in his cabin before separating a few red orbs from the rest. He polished them on his shirt before heading back out, the familiar smell of the sea tickling his senses and filling up his lungs again. He bit into the juicy red fruit, chewing happily as he leaned on the railing.

He spotted the deckhand snooping around his cabin, wondering if he should pay a greeting and thank him before deciding against it. He didn't need to thank someone for doing their job... even if they did a good show of it.

He fought with his pride and conscience before finally gave in, standing in front of the boy, smile playing on his lips. He nearly lets the smile drop as he saw the Italian's expression after he accidentally brushed against him, only settling for a small chuckle and a wave of his hand.

"Hola~" He sang, smirking as the boy jumped back, amused with the reaction. He let out another chuckle, stepping closer. His boots thudded across the wooden deck, and he eyed the boy curiously just like an eagle that has spotted its prey, smirk widening as he saw the shaking. Some curious crew members who passed by casted him both pitying and curious looks, thinking that auburn boy would probably be in deep trouble if Captain was cowering him like so.

They scurried on their way when Antonio sent a glare towards their direction, eliciting a cringing response as they remembered what kind of power he possessed. He waited until most of them passed, then raises a black gloved hand. His expression fell for a moment as he searched for the right words, finally resting his head on the boy's head. "Not a bad job on the deck. Keep it up." Antonio allowed the smallest bit of warmth to creep into the sentence before he lowered his hand, turning around and walking back down to his cabin.

He had made sure that no one had been around, because most of his crew gossiped like women, and before he knew it, there would have probably been rumors that he was going soft. Hmph. Like real he would let that happen.

* * *

He remained tense, praying silently with all his might. The thick silence was broken by those unlikely words, and his eyes popped open, staring at the wood floor in disbelief. He remained silent before raising his head, even though the Captain was long gone, the words hung heavily in the air.

He took a few tentative steps, reeling with the fact that the man hadn't tried to throw him over board, or kill him. A miracle in itself, and to top it off, it was almost a compliment… Even if the words had been a bit stiff.

He slowly began to make his way into the galley, grabbing a bowl of soup and sitting in the far corner, away from the noise. The small table faces an open window, and the other deckhands were strewn about, sitting in their own quiet corners or being picked on by the bigger, more experienced ones. Lovino quietly began to pick at the loaf of stale bread, chewing the cardboard-like staple without complaint. It was better than starving to death, and plus. He was special.

"Special", as everyone stayed away from him. He caught a few dirty look from the other deckhands, who had been picked up off the streets, while he had been bought from the Austrian navy.

Bought. A bought deckhand.

Lovino was turning over this idea in his head, wondering why he, of all people, deserved something as both good and bad like this. He was just an ordinary person, with a very bad attitude… Even his brother is way better than him.

So… "Why me?"


End file.
